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cjjohansson · 1 month

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home is where the heart is ★ n.r

— 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ;; 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐘𝐒 & 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒

in which your married life with natasha romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. with your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (and ultimately, very horny.)

pairing ★ sub!wife!natasha x beefy!butch!reader

chapter summary ★ natasha wakes you up with a pleasant surprise, your gremlin kids are the life and death of you, tony stark is annoying, marital sexting is pretty tough, and you're homesick for your wife's pussy.

warnings ★ (MINORS DNI) - explicit content, some pretty heavy kinks: blowjobs, marital sexting, breeding kink, daddy kink, probably more.

word count ★ 3.1k (feeding yall)

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

You slept like the dead.

Or at least you did, on most mornings, oblivious to the waking world in your sweet slumber.

Today was different, though. There was a distinct feeling of pleasantness swimming in your subconscious, one you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It urged you awake, a certain type of wet heat that insistently tugged and pulled.

It wasn’t until a jolt of arousal shot through you like a nine-millimetre shotgun that you jerked awake with a start.

“Shit!” you gasped, yanking off the blanket from your lower half, to reveal your ethereal wife perpetrating what could only be described as a wet dream.

Natasha’s head was obediently lowered in the midst of sucking your erect shaft, her viridescent gaze trained unto you with a twinkle of mischief. Wandering hands were sheathed under the front of your sweatshirt, painted nails mapping out the expanse of your tensed abdomen.

“Way to wake me up, baby,” you say breathlessly, a hand flying to the back of Natasha’s head in hopes of speeding up your ever-approaching high. You buck your hips once, effectively propelling your hips further forward, guiding your shaft into your wife’s mouth.

Natasha hums mindlessly, palming at your torso like it was second nature. Her mouth moves languidly, relaxed and slow, tongue trailing over the hefty length of your cock in a teasing manner.

Like the devil incarnate, Natasha’s hand glides a broad stroke from your abs to the base of your cock, and starts working her hand in firm strokes. “Fuck,” you groan, a hand twisting into soft locks of your wife’s hair.

The joint stimulation on the head and base of your cock have you barrelling towards a preordained high at a frighteningly fast pace, and the absolutely criminal way Natasha’s head bobs up and down is no help at all.

“Fuck, baby, m’so close,” you gasp, throwing your head back and letting your eyes slide shut. Your big hand guides Natasha’s head with a certain type of tacit power, unwritten but distinct. Natasha feels herself get wet, and in turn eagerly plunges her mouth down with a renewed vigour.

When Natasha lets out a filthy moan from the back of her throat, stifled by the sheer size of your cock in her mouth, pleasure overwhelms your every sense.

You groan, hips snapping up for the entirety of your cock to be buried in Natasha’s warm and velvet throat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“Mama! Mommy!”

The undeniable sound of little feet scampering across the wooden floorboard and down the stairs, unceremoniously hauls you out of your heaven-like ascension.

Natasha pulls her lips off your cock with a satisfying ‘pop’ sound. “Time to get up, honey,” she says with the arch of her eyebrow, smoothly turning over in practised motion and leaving you hung and sprung.

“Baby,” you whine, pitifully throwing your head back. Your words fall on deaf ears and you grumble and pull up your sweatpants, just in time for the door to swing open and release the incoming wave of chaos.

“MAMA!!” Emilia shrieks, leaping onto the bed with fearsome aggression, her younger twin brother in tow.

Your five-year olds didn’t let you catch any breaks, Emilio roaring into your ear while dragging his toy pterodactyl across your face. “Rawr! Rawr! Wake up, ma!”

You leap up in a haze of bedsheets and screaming kids, all your previous indiscretions quickly faded at the sight of your bundles of joy.

Emilia squeals as you easily hoist her up with one arm, the little girl getting thrown into the air. Emilio receives much of the same treatment, getting dangled in the air by one leg.

“Mommy! Save us!” The boy cries out with a delighted grin and a hearty attempt at hitting your side. You swing them around with fake growls that incite laughter and squeals, steering clear of any sharp corners or wayward objects.

Natasha is more preoccupied with hugging your sleepy ten-year old, and cooing softly into her ear.

Marina is the oldest of your three, quiet and reserved, with brilliance sparkling behind her soft eyes. “Hi, mama,” she greets you with a small smile, and your heart melts a little.

“Hi, darling angel,” you reply with a big grin of your own. “Where’s my morning kiss?”

At the prospect of the feared morning kiss, Emilio yells and wreaks absolute havoc, the toy truck forgotten in favour of escaping your clutches.

“No mama! No kiss!” Emilia protests, the Russian determination behind her set eyes a splitting image of her mother’s. Emilio is long gone, visibly hidden under your bedside table.

You hoist Marina up onto your hip, smiling at the sweet kiss she pecks on your cheek. “It’s mommy’s turn now,” you say easily, sliding up to Natasha with a mischievous grin.

“Ew!” Your little girl giggles, hiding behind her hands as you share a chaste kiss with your wife, one that is far too short for your liking. Either way, the morning kiss routine was a success.

The attention in the crowded room is drawn by a simple clap of Natasha’s hands. She stands arms akimbo, rocking her bed hair, sleep still half-written in her eyes — but the whole look is so endearing that you can’t help but fall in love all over again.

“Okay, kids. Time to get ready for school! Who wants breakfast?”

The cheer that arises from your children is nothing short of pure jubilation. Emilio starts a chant of ‘Frosted Flakes! Frosted Flakes!’ that has them marching in line out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen.

Natasha laughs, following their trail, but you drag her back expectantly.

With one arm hanging off the top of the doorframe and the other wrapped around her waist, you pull Natasha into that long sought-after kiss.

“Mhm,” you hum contentedly, inhaling her sweet scent. “I love you.”

Natasha slowly slides her hands up your arms, savouring the kiss. She presses her palms to your cheeks, adoration dancing in her eyes.

“I love you too.”

*****

The Frosted Flakes do not end up on the breakfast table, after all, because Natasha reasons that the kids had eaten it for three breakfasts in a row and their teeth would rot and fall off.

Toast and scrambled eggs, courtesy of your little handiwork in the kitchen, is the eventual outcome. Food is food to a bunch of hungry gremlins, either way, and the breakfast gets scarfed down in no time at all.

“You’re gonna go soon?” Natasha asks you in the kitchen, giggling at your teddy-bear patterned apron. You make a non-committal hum against your wife’s chest, wanting to stay in her arms for an eternity.

“Mama, we have to go to school,” Marina calls from the front porch, the door clicking open. “I need help with my shoe!” Emilio cries out, hopping into the kitchen with a singular shoe. “I got my shoes done on my own!” Emilia chimes in proudly, tugging on her backpack straps.

Natasha laughs, stroking your hair affectionately. “No rest for the wicked,” she says. “Be a responsible parent and send Marina to school, then go to work. The twins’ school bus will be here anytime.”

You exhale with a smile, pulling your wife in for a kiss that is a tad too long. Tugging off the pink apron, you’re glad you already changed into your work attire — a collared white shirt rolled up to your elbows, a grey-patterned tie, and matching slacks.

Natasha looks you up and down approvingly, then her eyes glimmer with an incited flame as she straightens your tie. You definitely don’t miss the way her hands glide smoothly across your chest to straighten out the wrinkles, and you resist the fluttering sensation that blooms under her touch.

“What a handsome young woman,” Natasha comments, tip-toeing to peck your cheek. You smile widely, preening under your wife’s attention. “Only for you,” you reply happily. “I’ll be off, then.”

“Mama, let’s go,” Marina probes, head poking into the kitchen. Her eyes soften at the sight of Natasha, proceeding to wave cutely. “Bye, mommy.”

Like little ducks, your three children follow you out of the house, with their miniature backpacks and shoes. Natasha watches adoringly from the porch, blowing kisses to Emilia when she yells one last “Bye, mommy!”.

Your Audi SQ7 peels out the driveway, engine revving. Marina is looking out the window, humming ‘American Pie’ with a little smile. As your home fades away in the rearview mirror, you think that this life was all you’d ever need.

***

“Fury, tell Tony that not sponsoring the coffee machines in my building is frankly, quite rude behaviour,” you comment, sitting next to the aloof man who’s snacking on a packet of dried fruit. Steve steals bits of the snack when Tony’s not looking, much to Fury’s chagrin.

“I don’t give a fuck,” Tony replies hotly, snatching back the piece of fruit in Steve’s hand. “You literally leaked the photo of me in a maid outfit, for the whole world to see. You know how many sleazy men have slid into my DMs since then? Pepper hasn’t let that go!”

“What, are you mad that the public now knows that Pepper’s the one that does the dicking down?” you retort. “And Steve was one of those ‘sleazy men’!”

The accused blonde looks away quickly, suddenly very preoccupied with the tiling of the floor. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Steve mumbles.

“That’s enough,” Fury admonishes with an unamused look. “The three of you need to get your shit together. Regardless of whether or not Stark is a bottom, I can’t have the CEOs of my powerhouse companies making a bad name. You know how that reflects on me? Stark Industries, SHIELD, L/N-Corp Worldwide Media: The Desolate Downfall of Nick Fury.”

“Is this because I modelled for the gay sex toy shop company? Because that’s just homophobic,” Steve reasons, folding his arms. “And Bucky liked the advert a lot!”

Tony scoffs, making paper aeroplanes with the papers on Fury’s desk. “We literally bring in millions upon millions for you each year. I’m sure that forgives the one time I was high during Y/N’s media conference. The Minister didn’t even notice! He’s like 82, anyways. Close to your age, Fury.”

“And I’m not sorry for calling the Netflix director a bitch on live TV,” you add in. “They’ve got no reason for cancelling all the sapphic shows left and right! My wife and I were invested in Gentleman Jack, okay?”

Fury sighs, the scene before him a spectacle he was no stranger to by now.

You, Tony and Steve were the face of the up-and-coming generation of brilliant minds and creative thinking. He supposed your overwhelming success and proved greatness softened the blow of your discrepancies in maintaining an unblemished professional image.

“Moving on,” Fury continues. “I want to talk about Project Eagle. As you should know from last year’s report……”

Just then, your phone vibrates in your pocket, with a notification from Natasha’s contact.

You, indeed, were hard.

Upon reading Natasha’s last message, you shut your phone off so quickly that Steve turns and raises an eyebrow at you. You clear your throat and shift in your seat, evidently affected.

The heat that surges through your body pays no help in your focus on Fury’s briefing. You can feel the flush creeping on from the back of your neck, spreading down your body and rushing towards the area between your legs.

Natasha, why have you forsaken me? You think helplessly, the noises in the office fading to a low buzz. When your phone vibrates again, your finger clicks on the message before your brain can catch up to you.

The image that Natasha sends you has you choking on absolutely nothing, coughing up air like a woman possessed.

Lacy red lingerie displaying thick thighs and a soft tummy should not be this breathtaking, but Natasha pulls it off anyway.

Filthy images flit into your mind uncontrollably, searing images like a broken record player. Your dick has a mind of its own, pressing hot and tight against the seam of your pants.

“L/N,” Fury announces, voice booming and hauling you out of your trance. “What seems to be the issue?”

In the background, Steve and Tony giggle like schoolgirls, knowing all too well what had occurred. You clear your throat again, shoving your phone into your pocket, hopelessly trying to erase the blessed image of your wife from your memory, just for a moment longer.

“No issues here,” you say with a forced smile, fighting demons with your rock-hard erection you’re desperately trying to cover with a report file. “I’m all dandy, sir.”

“Right,” Fury says disbelievingly, his good eye flickering downwards for a fraction of a second. Embarrassment eats you up whole.

“Let’s hope your attention span is just as ‘dandy’.”

***

“Natty,” you pant, with your wife pinned under you, hot and tight inside of her.

“I can’t believe you did that,” you grunt, punctuating each word with a firm thrust of your hips. “Made me so fucking hard at work.”

Following your incident in Fury’s office, you had exhausted every fibre of your willpower not to lock yourself in a bathroom stall and jerk off like a nymphomaniac.

After a gruelling day of work and coming back to a house of sleeping children, you had wasted no time in claiming your stake.

“I’ve been blue balled for twelve hours,” you groan into Natasha’s neck, mouthing at the flushed skin with fervour. “Spare me some sympathy, darling.”

“Oh, my poor baby,” your wife teases, tracing a feather-light hand over your tensed back muscles and clutching at the back of your neck. “You’re so eager, aren’t you?”

“Mhm,” you growl, scraping your sharp teeth over her collarbone, leaving violet imprints at a respectable-enough level. You roll your hips into Natasha’s, drawing relentless waves of pleasure and a rocking motion that has her throwing her head back.

Natasha’s erratic breathing and badly-disguised moans are music to your ears, a sweet symphony you’d been missing all day. You groan as her velvet walls clench tight around you, hot and wet and all-encompassing.

“You feel amazing,” you pant, the clefted tip of your shaft bumping against her cervix with how deep you nest inside of her.

A high-pitched whine sounds from the back of Natasha’s throat, as her legs spasm in the air. “Wanna fuck you senseless, please,” you groan.

“Do it,” she challenges breathily. You lean forward, manhandling her deliciously thick thighs, pressing your wife’s knees to her head.

The arousal that builds in your lower stomach is pure white heat, fueled by the breathless cries of your wife under you.

“Fuck,” you cry out, reaching new spots you haven’t before. You surge forth, an unstoppable train, drilling your shaft into Natasha’s dripping cunt like it was your only reason for living. Because maybe it was, as you transcend earthly boundaries with her, only her.

Subconsciously, your hands fly to Natasha’s hefty tits, grabbing the shaking mounds. “Y’so pretty, babygirl,” you say, half-drunkenly, high of the white-hot pleasure that Natasha draws out of you.

She’s untouchable heaven, silky moans and raspy cries, a soft tummy with rolls that you greedily grasp in your hands.

“Daddy,” Natasha cries, crescent nails scratching down your arms, her suspended legs shaking in the air. The airy lilt of your title makes you leak. “Ugh, fuck,” you grunt, pounding her into the bedframe, sweaty and slick.

“Let me come inside, please?” you practically beg, wide eyes transfixed at the area your shaft meets her cunt. Natasha whines breathlessly, a hand moving to clasp at the sheets. “Yeah, I-I’m on the pill.”

That’s all the confirmation you need before pinning Natasha down with spread hands. You shift on the bed as you mount her, skin-to-skin with your shaft fully-lodged inside of your wife.

Natasha gives you this dizzy look, glazed-over eyes portraying complete submission.

Then you start moving again, and the world explodes in your hands.

“Oh, fuckkk,” you groan, shoving your fingers into Natasha’s mouth to stop her pleasured screams from waking up the whole house.

The speed at which you drive your hips into Natasha’s is downright sinful, smearing slick all over her rounded ass, dripping onto the bed.

You’re transfixed, as your wife’s big mounds bounce in time with your thrusts, making you drool with want. An animalistic growl leaves your throat as you push yourself in, even deeper than before, making Natasha arch above the bed with a muffled cry.

Just like that, with you buried inside Natasha, do you fall apart by the seams, an unwinding intricate tarp.

Your load gets buried deep inside Natasha’s womb, and you continue with shallow thrusts. “Mhmn,” Natasha moans, following soon after, spurts of slick coating your cock in waves of overarching pleasure.

“Babydoll,” you groan mindlessly, palming at her sides. You come so heavily that it flows out of Natasha, a dribble of thick white fluid, and your wife fingers it back in so desperately that you could get hard all over again.

You collapse unceremoniously onto the bed next to Natasha. “I want more kids,” you state. You grope your wife’s tummy like it would conjure new life, an expectant look on your face.

“Three is enough,” Natasha says breathlessly, skin shining with a sheen of fresh sweat. She locks eyes with you, hair tousled and lips curled into an adoring smile.

“Okay, fine,” you mutter your acquiescence, both of you knowing that statement wouldn’t hold up for long. “...Give me a minute, then I’ll clean up. You need some water, baby?”

Natasha lets out a pleased hum, snuggling into your chest.

She kisses your left boob affectionately, as you groan with sensitivity, playfully swatting at her arm. “No need. Just want you.”

“You have me,” you respond softly, running a hand through the brown locks of your wife’s hair, flattening it out with gentle strokes. “You always will.”

so that's chapter one of 'home is where the heart is!' i personally choose to believe pepper straps tony down every night. what are your thought on the kids?? mommy!nat?? butch!reader?? the incorporation of the texts?? there's so much feedback i require tbh

reblog or no more milf!nat

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

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cjjohansson · 1 month

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IronMan2! Black Widow but with her hair tied back

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cjjohansson · 1 month

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2 of my friends are at disney paris and they got black widow to do me a video😩😩 my friend is the cutest!!😩🖤

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romonova

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cjjohansson · 1 month

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she's soo 🤏🤏 I LOVE HER

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cjjohansson · 2 months

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Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story Chapter Twenty

Who Lives, Who Dies Who Tells Your Story

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Reader get into an accident that leaves Natasha in critical condition. When she wakes up, it’s revealed that she has amnesia and doesn’t remember her life, wife, or children.

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Follow my update page @natsxaddiction2

w/c:3.5k

Warning: Smut inside (hot stuff)

18+ Minors DNI

Note: Hi, love y’all. Enjoy =)

“Tasha," You rasped trying to catch her attention. The bed under you creaked with the weight of your lovemaking as you gently wrapped your hand around her neck. Your voice was a soft yet gentle command. “Breathe.”

The morning sun peeked across the horizon, its golden streaks reached through the sheer curtains, gently coaxing the room from its slumber. Despite the happenings before you, a serene stillness embraced the room, interrupted only by the subtle rustle of sheets and harsh breathing from the two of you.

As you thrust your hips forward, your free hand found its way to Natasha’s bare thigh, raising it to get a better angle. The atmosphere crackled with an electric charge as your fingers gently encircled her, a firm yet tender grip pulling her closer. It was a silent declaration, a physical manifestation of desire and connection.

Natasha, feeling the strength of your touch, surrendered to the embrace. She reciprocated, her own hands finding refuge atop yours. Your grip tightened, not in restraint, but in an affirmation of the intensity of the emotions coursing between you.

Natasha breathed harshly, her head falling back to rest on your shoulder.

“Yes,” Natasha whispered. “Right there,” She moaned into the air.

You kept up your brutal pace, propelling your hips forward, as you spooned Natasha. Her whimpers and moans spurred you on getting her closer to the second orgasm of the morning.

“Shit!” She cried as you hit that spot inside her that made her go crazy. She couldn’t do much but take it as you fucked her from behind. Her fingers dug into the back of your palm, before she unclenched them, noticing the tightness in her grip.

“I know baby,” You peppered kisses along the parts of her shoulder you could reach. You could feel the heaviness in her bones as if it were your own. The hurriedness in the thrusting of her hips. She’s close. You reach in front of you, using your knee to part her legs even more, as you rub her swollen bud in tight circles. Your fingers are heavy on her sex as she hisses again.

This is how most of your mornings have started for the past week. Slowly waking up, sharing kisses, before it eventually ends in sex. Mindblowing sex. Some of the best you’ve ever had.

“Let me on top,” Natasha begged, tapping at your hands before she slowly removed the seven-inch strap from her pussy. She pushes you onto your back, your hands finding her waist, as you position yourself against the pillows. This view is much better. She can see all of you and you see her. Your eyes trail over her body, from her perky breasts to the taut muscles of her stomach, down to the landing strip of her pussy. You have to force your eyes to stay open at the delicious sight in front of you. You’ve missed this image and hope to burn it permanently into your mind. Natasha's riding was always a sight to see.

“Fuck,” You cursed aloud. “So fucking sexy.” You growled as you gripped her hips tighter. You reach behind her to slap her ass and her pussy clenches around the cock. “You like that?”

“Mhmm,” Natasha nodded. She bit her bottom lip to keep her volume low, her eyes half-lidded, as she ran her hands along your torso. “I’m gonna cum.” She sighed. The headboard above you subtly knocked against the wall as she began to bounce on top of you.

“Cum baby,” You encouraged as your nimble fingers returned to her clit. “I got you.” You promised as you teased her swollen nub. Natasha threw her hair over her left shoulder in one motion. She used your breasts as anchors, her thumbs just barely touching the metal of your piercing, as she matched your thrusting.

She could feel the heat pooling low in her belly as she felt the familiar fluttering of her walls. She felt the immediate reaction in her body to your ministrations. She had never had such an attentive lover she thought as she looked into your eyes. Her climax was all-encompassing. Her mouth formed into a perfect ‘o’ shape as she inhaled a sharp breath of air. It was as though every fiber of her being had momentarily locked in response to the natural electricity that rushed within her.

The piece inside of you, gently rubbing against your g-spot, pressed hard against your walls as you fell into your climax several seconds after Natasha. Your moans and breaths mingled as she bowed forward, her lips against your neck, as you both experienced the moment together.

The minutes after are all a blur. Limbs and sheets become a tangled mess on the bed as you dispose of the strap somewhere beside the bed. You don’t know where you begin and Natasha ends as you lie against the pillows spent. Slowly, her arms reach to wrap around your midsection, before she nudges your chin with her nose.

She wanted a kiss. You obliged, offering your slightly chapped lips to her, as you gently pressed against her body.

“Mmm,” She hummed. “I love you.” She lifted her hand to caress your cheek. She wanted nothing more than to be close to you at this moment.

“I love you too,” You murmured.

In the quiet cocoon of your shared affection, you both nestled into the warmth of each other's embrace. The gentle hum of morning light seeping through the curtains painted a tranquil scene, and the world outside seemed to pause, granting this stolen moment of peace.

Her fingers traced soothing patterns on your chest as you exchanged whispers of love. The rhythmic rise and fall of your breaths are synchronized.

As the sun gradually asserted its presence you found comfort in the simple act of being close. The world may demand attention and responsibilities would soon beckon, but for now, time stood still. With the impending awakening of Olivia and Lily on the horizon, the present was all that mattered.

“I’m so tired,” Natasha huffed as she looked over to the alarm clock blinking on your side of the bed. “You wore me out.”

“I aim to please,” You joked as she kissed along your chin. “I wore the Black Widow out. I need to put that on Twitter.”

“The public would love that,” She laughed. She giggled as she thought of the tabloids now. "Go ahead, make me the headline," she teased. As she nuzzled closer, the morning's weariness seemed to dissipate in the warmth of your shared laughter.

“We’ve been it for worse,” You shrugged.

"True," Natasha responded with a wry smile, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your chest. "Not that I remember any of them but I’ll take your word for it.”

There’s a moment of silence that hangs in the air. Natasha watches your facial expressions for a few seconds longer. You can feel there’s something she wants to ask.

“How do you feel?” Natasha began. “How would you feel if I didn’t get my memories back?”

You took a deep breath, sensing the weight in Natasha's question. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for your response. You met Natasha's gaze, searching her eyes for any hints of uncertainty or fear.

"I love you, Natasha, memories or not," you replied, your voice steady and sincere. "Our connection goes beyond what's in the past. If you never regained those memories, it wouldn't change how I feel about you. We'll create new memories together, and I'll be here every step of the way."

“Okay,” Natasha nodded. “Now let’s get rid of the cookie-cutter response. I want to know how you’re feeling. How you’ve been feeling since I woke up. I know I pushed you away and said horrible things but I want to know.”

You looked deep into Natasha's eyes, appreciating the honesty in her words. The vulnerability she expressed invited a genuine response.

"It's been a rollercoaster, Nat," you admitted, your voice carrying a mix of emotions. You swiped a hand over your face before returning your eyes to her gaze. "Seeing you wake up without memories, hearing you say those things... it hurt. But I get it, it's not you. It's been tough, not gonna lie. There were moments when I felt lost, wondering if we'd get back what we had. But," you added, a soft smile breaking through, "every small step you've taken to reconnect, to understand, it's been a beacon of hope. I want you to be okay, Nat, with or without those memories. And I'm here, no matter what, figuring it out together."

“I don’t deserve you,” Natasha muttered.

Gently, you cupped Natasha's face in your hands, your thumbs brushing away a stray tear. "Hey, none of that," you whispered, your voice tender. "You deserve all the love and support in the world. We've been through so much, and I'm not going anywhere. Remember, I love you for who you are, not just for what's in the past.”

“Nat, is something going on? Are you worried about more than just getting your memories back?”

Her gaze faltered for a moment, a flicker of vulnerability crossing her features. She sighed, a mixture of hesitation and gratitude in her eyes. "It's just... this whole process, not knowing who I was, the uncertainty. Forgetting the girls. It's not just about memories. It's about finding my place in this new world that feels both familiar and alien. I worry about how it might affect us in the long run, you and me, our life together." She paused as if choosing her words carefully. "I want to be the person you deserve, but what if I can't be that person?" The question lingered, hanging in the air, an unspoken plea for reassurance and understanding.

“You’ve always been that person,” You sighed. “Every version of you I’ve gotten. Even after Ultron with all of the fighting we did. You’ve always been the one for me.”

A soft smile played on Natasha's lips as your words reached her. It was as if the weight of uncertainty lifted, if only for a moment. "You really mean that?" she asked, her eyes searching yours for affirmation.

"Absolutely," you replied, your gaze unwavering. "Through every battle, every hardship, you've been my constant. The essence of who you are, it's always been there, and that's what matters to me the most.”

You share a sweet kiss. Something within her has settled.“You think we have time to sleep before the girls wake up?”

The kiss lingered for a moment, a tender connection that spoke volumes. A playful glint danced in Natasha's eyes as she pulled away, her lips curving into a mischievous smile.

"Maybe," she whispered, the warmth of her breath brushing against your cheek. "But we might need to be on our guard. Olivia has a knack for perfect timing, and Lily... well, she's unpredictable. Are we willing to take the risk?"

“Definitely,” You pulled her closer. “Let’s sleep. An hour won’t hurt.”

**************

“Mama, no!” Lily demanded, her face screwed up in a pout as Natasha attempted to help put her shoes on.

Natasha chuckled, her patience evident as she continued to coax Lily's tiny shoes onto her feet. The toddler kicked and wiggled every which way to avoid the feet prisons. "Come on, Lily, we need to put on your shoes so we can go outside," Natasha encouraged, her tone gentle. “Don’t you want to have fun today?”

“No, no fun!”

Natasha exchanged a bemused glance with you, sharing a silent acknowledgment of Lily's adorable stubbornness. "No fun, huh?" Natasha feigned a serious expression, playing along with Lily's flighty protest. "Well, I guess we'll have to cancel all the fun plans then. No playing, no giggling, just a day of serious business,"

“She hates shoes these days,” You tsked from your spot helping Olivia with her pants. Olivia was much more appreciative of the effort you were putting in. The contrast in reactions between the two siblings added a touch of humor to the morning routine. Olivia, seemingly content with your help, wriggled into her pants with a smile. Meanwhile, Lily continued her shoe rebellion, casting off any attempts to contain her tiny feet.

"Well, we have a little rebel on our hands," you remarked, shooting a playful glance at Lily. “Lily, let Mama put your shoes on so we can go.”

“No,” Lily shook her head. She signed the word no with her hands to emphasize her point. Oh great your baby was being sassy in multiple languages.

Natasha stifled a laugh, and you exchanged amused glances at Lily's newfound expression of defiance. "Well, we've got ourselves a little linguist with attitude. Lily, sweetheart, we need to put on shoes to go outside and play. How about we compromise and find the coolest, comfiest shoes you can wear?"

Natasha joined in, singing along with her words, "Fun shoes, Lily. We can find shoes that are as cool as you are!" The prospect of 'fun shoes' seemed to catch Lily's attention, and with a thoughtful look, she seemed to consider the idea.

Olivia, always being the adorable big sister, grabbed Lily’s white printed sneakers with Minnie Mouse on the sides. They weren’t the best shoes for the inches of snow but you could work with those.

Olivia's thoughtful choice of Lily's favorite Minnie Mouse sneakers added an extra layer of sweetness to the moment. "Look, Lily, your big sister picked out the perfect shoes for you!" you exclaimed, holding up the beloved white sneakers with a grin.

Natasha joined in, her tone playful, "Minnie Mouse shoes! Those are so cool, Lily. You'll be the most stylish little adventurer in the snow."

As Natasha held out the shoes for Lily to take, the toddler grabbed them to inspect them. She attempted to put them on her feet herself. She tried to wriggle her tiny feet into the Minnie Mouse sneakers with a whine. Natasha knelt beside her, offering gentle guidance and encouragement. "That's it, Lily! You're doing great," Natasha praised, her eyes sparkling with affection.

“Help,” Lily demanded from Natasha. “Mama, shoes on.”

Natasha grinned at Lily's adorable plea for assistance. "Alright, sweetheart, Mama will help you with the shoes," Natasha said, her hands gently taking over the task.

With practiced ease, Natasha secured Lily's Minnie Mouse sneakers, making sure they were snug and comfortable. "There we go," Natasha announced with a triumphant smile, giving Lily's shoes a little wiggle for good measure. “Now can we go?”

“Outside?” Lily pointed towards the door.

“Yes, outside,” Natasha repeated.

Lily had a new determination in her eyes as she stood from the steps to walk towards the door.

"Look at you, little explorer," Natasha praised, her voice filled with affection.”Just a few minutes ago you didn’t want to leave the house.”

“They switch so quickly,” You mused.

***********

Spending a day at the park wasn’t ideal in this weather. It’s cold, and freezing, and everything wrong with living in New York during winter. The biting cold of the New York air greeted you as you stepped outside, challenging your initial enthusiasm for a day at the park. The brisk air stung exposed skin, and the layers of clothing seemed like a feeble defense against the frigid temperatures.

Natasha's brows furrowed slightly, a shared acknowledgment that the park might not be the best destination in these conditions, especially with the little ones. "Maybe we can find a cozy indoor spot instead?" she suggested, her breath visible in the chilly air.

“The cafe is open?” You suggested. You’d missed Theresa and Rae having not visited them as much in the past few weeks.

Natasha nodded in agreement, her breath forming a mist in the cold air. "The cafe sounds perfect," she replied.

With Lily's hand securely in Natasha's, and Olivia trailing close behind, the family you set off towards the nearby cafe.

**********

The familiar feelings of home washed over you the moment you stepped into the cafe. Theresa was bickering with her daughter, Rae, over some menu changes when you stepped in. It’s one of those times during the day when guests are minimal. Perfect timing for you.

The jingling bell above the door announced your arrival, and the familiar ambiance of the cafe wrapped around you like a cozy blanket.

Theresa looked up from her playful squabble with Rae, her face lighting up with a warm smile as she spotted you. "Well, if it isn't our favorite customers," she teased, setting aside the menu changes for the moment. Rae, catching sight of Lily and Olivia, grinned and waved in greeting.

“Hi, Reesa, Hi Rae!” Olivia bounced over to the duo with Lily hot on her tail.

Theresa's eyes twinkled with delight as Olivia and Lily bounded over to her. "Hey there, troublemakers! Long time no see," Theresa greeted with a playful wink. Rae joined in the welcoming committee, offering high-fives to both girls. Lily clung to Rae’s pants leg, pointing her index finger in the air as the sign for up. Rae happily obliged.

“Oh, you’re getting heavy.” She said as she hoisted Lily onto her hip.

“I see we have the whole family today,” Theresa raised her brow suggestively. “So good to see the beautiful couple again.” She called to you as you and Natasha sat down at your favorite table. Theresa noticed the tension between the two of you the last time Natasha had come into the cafe alone.

Her perceptive gaze didn't go unnoticed as she warmly welcomed you and Natasha.

"Thank you, Theresa. It's great to be back, and with the whole crew this time," you replied with a grateful smile, appreciating the subtle understanding conveyed in Theresa's words.

“What are you eating today?” Theresa offered the menus to you even though you knew them like the back of your hand. From your peripheral, you could see Rae offering up a piece of cake to the girls. You didn’t have it in you to tell her that would ruin their appetites for lunch.

Theresa nodded. She figured you would stick with the usual. "The usual it is, then. I'll whip up something special for you two," she promised with a wink before turning to prepare the order.

Rae, still balancing Lily on her hip, joined the interaction with a smile. "I've got some yummy treats for the little ones too," she added, gesturing towards the tempting display of desserts.

“I can eat a piece of cake all by myself, Mommy. I don’t have to share,” Olivia informed you. She was more so trying to convince you that she should be allowed to have an entire slice.

Your eyebrows lifted in mock surprise at Olivia's declaration. "Oh, really? A whole slice, all to yourself?" you responded, playing along with her persuasive efforts. "That's a big responsibility, Olivia. Are you sure you can handle it? Cake is a serious business, you know."

Natasha, with a hint of amusement, chimed in, "I think we might need a cake-eating expert's opinion on this matter. What do you think, Rae?" The playful banter added a touch of lightheartedness to the decision-making process, transforming the choice of dessert into a delightful family affair.

“I think she could do it,” Rae nodded. “She’s tough. Right, Liv?”

“Right,” Olivia agreed as she allowed herself to be hoisted onto her booster chair. Next, Rae put Lily into her seat so she could grab the slices of cake.

Beside you, Natasha watched you interact with the girls. The routine was like second nature to you. You fixed napkins to tuck into both girls’ shirts after helping them out of their coats and hats. You provided them with small coloring menus from your purse that she didn’t even know were in there. You even offered a bottle of pumped milk to Lily to keep her occupied.

You glanced over to see her watching and did a double-take. “What’s that look for?”

Natasha's eyes softened as she observed your effortless handling of the routine, your attention to detail, and your preparedness evident in every action.

Caught off guard by your question, she blinked and then smiled. "Just admiring the way you handle everything so seamlessly. It's like you have a superpower when it comes to parenting," she remarked, her tone filled with affection and appreciation.

“It does seem so doesn’t it?” You grinned cheekily.

“So humble,” Natasha jested.

“I assumed you would want the usual but I can tell Theresa to cook up something different for you,” You gestured. “Have you checked the menu?”

Natasha glanced over the menu, a thoughtful expression on her face. "The usual sounds perfect, actually," she replied with a warm smile. "I'm in the mood for something comforting today."

You nodded, taking note of her preference. "Alright, the usual it is. Theresa's surprises never disappoint, but sometimes, sticking to what we know and love is just what we need," you remarked, sharing a knowing look with Natasha.

This seems like a good spot to end it ;)

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cjjohansson · 2 months

Text

Y/N (Natasha’s Version)

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Natasha x Bucky (blip / referenced)

Warnings: “Cheating” | Underage Drinking | Internalized Homophobia

Request | You heard the rumors from Darcy, unfortunately they were true—Natasha missed you, so she showed up at your party | WC: 2,799

Betty by Taylor Swift, sapphic canon not just coded and slightly aged up to the start of college (18+)

As the car rolled away, Natasha felt her throat constrict. Where there once was a sunset on the horizon, in blush waves of pink and orange, she only saw an apocalyptic sky where red slowly bled into grey.

——

The perfectly paved streets restored to their prior days as the pre-gentrified road of your shared Brooklyn suburb became her current hallucination. Tied to the tail pipe of your mother's beaten down corolla was her heart, thumping against the cracked pavement. The natural gaps in the organ were filled by pebbles. As the car disappeared she felt shattered, the string pulling her heart had broken and the organ fell into a pothole.

Is it over now? No, Natasha couldn't face that...

As your mom's Tesla turned left the redhead let the sob she had been holding in out. Her body collapsed into a shroud of darkness as her blackout curtains shut, the blankets atop of her mattress moved to suffocate her.

Good, she wanted to die; she knew she was being dramatic but in this moment it felt like her barely even an adult world had ended. Her hit list was growing steadily, first she would kill Wanda, her idiot best friend that posted the photo of her with Bucky.

They were awkwardly kissing, and the redhead deleted it from her stories in a matter of minutes, but it was too late. Darcy saw it, the mutual friend who moved to the same city as she had, and she blabbed instantly. The woman called Jane, who then confirmed that there was actual proof this time before she phoned you in.

Natasha returned to town just in time to see the one consequence she never pondered when experimenting; your face was neutral, but your eyes were crestfallen.

It was just a stupid experience she needed to have, a short summer fling, it lasted not even two weeks. It was reckless and she knows that now. You'd slapped her hand away just days ago, then in a split second she found out from Yelena that you were going to NYU.

The blonde saw you at her late orientation for those stellar high school students interested in an early start. Natasha cried that night knowing you were leaving, you wouldn't be taking the gap year with her anymore.

Your heart was attached to her line, and she never considered that she should've just talked to you. It should have occurred to her that you would be upset. Considering the two of you were together, in a sense; not exactly girlfriends, but far more than friends.

Natasha regretted the affair as soon as it started, but she just needed to know if her Russian parents, who were raised back home were ready for her truth.

James was a total gentleman, her parents would've loved him since the young boy was affluent with Russian and the culture, but he wasn't the right fit. Natasha knew that after one attempt at kissing him, his lips were gruff and his hands were just the same as they roamed her form, the touch filled her with dread.

Unlike yours, which never came without words of confirmation and were soft when granted permission. Natasha found immense comfort at the feeling of your pillowy soft lips against hers alongside your gentle roaming hands. It went beyond the physical touch too, which really only served to prove to her she was a raging lesbian. When she looked into Bucky's ice blue eyes she felt nothing, not even a tether of friendship, but with you she felt that obnoxious fluttering in her stomach, and the world she saw were more vibrant.

Every time you were near her body and mind felt serene, like she could rest around you without the unease she felt around most. Everything was different now and she felt it deep within. You're gone, and with you left the comfort and love she needed to breathe.

That night, as sleep inevitably consumed her tortured mind Natasha found herself determined to fix this. It was a misunderstanding—you'd understand, right?

——

A week had gone by, Yelena had mentioned how she ran into you at the cafe where you treated her to a hot cocoa. Not allowing the turmoil with Natasha to affect the way you approached her little sister. It had warmed her heart and even made her smile, then the blonde sarcastically mentioned that you looked sad, her harsh delivery sought to remind her sister it was her fault.

Though she didn't leave her with only the reminder of her shortcomings, but also of an opportunity to amend.

"There's a frat party this weekend, Y/N's going."

Which is why Natasha was racing down the stairs at 8pm on a Saturday. Normally you two would be cuddled up in her bed, watching your favorite show while surrounded by every snack known to man. The party lifestyle never appealed to either of you and a part of her ached as she wondered why you're going.

How deeply did her betrayal change your outlook on life? Did her foolish decision make you think you needed to change? Were you afraid you weren't lively enough? Fuck, did you intend to move on tonight?

Natasha shook her head when she heard a honk, the depressing thoughts having consumed her into a state where she was mindlessly driving. Fortunately, she didn't hit anyone and was able to focus her mind long enough to make it to the college where she saw chaos.

Bodies of various students bustled across the campus quad, some in the direction of the main buildings but majority of them headed to a road far off to the side of the grand lecture halls. On the left side were rather large houses painted in varied shades of pastel, they were clearly well maintained. On the right stood a parallel set of houses, but the paint job was dull and there were pieces missing from many of the fixtures.

What stood out most though, was the black house in the center of them all, currently surrounded by idiots with red solo cups in their hands. The bulk of them laughing at the joke another drunken fool had made.

Natasha cringed when a body collided into hers, and as if things couldn't be worse she recognized the woman, Darcy. The raven haired woman stood in shock for a split second before offering the familiar face a smile. It was lopsided and it was clear the woman was faded.

Natasha was annoyed initially, but quickly saw the woman as a means to an end. "Where's Y/N?"

The woman pursed her lips and shrugged. "Inside?"

As she should've expected, the blabbing stoner only offered information to others when it wasn't helpful. Natasha passive aggressively pushed by her and took the risk of entering the house full of underage bodies.

Loads of upperclassmen foolishly tried to stop her on her determined journey to you, but most were met with bruised nuts alongside their cowering egos. In a matter of thirty minutes she had checked the entirety of the cloudy building and a part of her beamed at that.

You were nowhere to be found, her heart hoped that you'd returned to the dorm she finessed out of Yelena.

There was a nervous flutter in her chest that brought her frantic searching to a pause and made her mouth run dry. A pang of fear that paralyzed her body in place as she now considered the endless possible outcomes.

Would you even open the door if you knew it was her?

The redhead was sure you didn't have peepholes but there's the likely chance of you slamming the door shut in her face, that felt worse. Not nearly as bad as her next thought, what if you were exploring too, just like she had with Bucky? Her hands became shaky at the hypocritical unease she felt about you moving on.

In her nervous state she took a sip of the punch before she promptly spit it back out into the red solo cup. If she wasn't nauseated before she sure as hell was now. A water bottle was just in her reach, properly cold and a perfect cure to wash away the disgust on her tongue. Just as she began to unscrew the lid though she found herself frozen again as she heard a familiar giggle.

Natasha's head spun to the left side then the right. A blur of pointless people filled her vision before she found the source of the laughter—her happiness.

Stood directly across the room, in a gorgeous red dress with a familiar leather jacket hanging loosely over your likely bare shoulders. Her cheeks tinted pink, a sense of relief nearly washed over her at the notion of you potentially not hating her like she feared. Then she frowned, you wore a bright smile as you sipped on a juice box. It warmed the heart of your once secret lover to see you looking so carefree, a stark contrast to the last time, just like she always remembered you to be.

This time though, you were enraptured by a stupid jock, they bore an uncanny resemblance to herself that made her stomach swoop with a fragile sense of hope.

If you looked for her in another, she stood a chance, even if it was microscopic and not guaranteed. Right?

Yes or no, it didn't matter. Natasha would not go down without a fight, she once beat off an entire group of boys for taunting you, she'd gladly do it again for you.

Fortunately for the redhead she wouldn't have to. It was like something out of a movie the way your eyes locked with hers, the sounds became muted and you felt a dull flutter in your stomach where it used to be a roaring surge of butterflies to symbolize a deep love. A swarm of tears hung at the edge of your lashes and the massive room suddenly became too claustrophobic.

Natasha didn't question it as you took off, nor did she hesitate to dart after you as you aimlessly ran out the back door and stumbled upon an unexpected garden.

Who knew the dude bros also bore green thumbs?

Natasha found you sobbing over their patch of carrots and couldn't refrain from softly chuckling. Even in your grief you were finding a way to be useful and it filled her with nostalgia, it was just so inherently you.

Once your eyes shot up to hers, narrowed and enraged she realized she wasn't as quiet as she thought. "Fuck off Natasha." The joy on her face neutralized as she fell to her knees in front of you, her instinct was to reach out—to pull you in, but with words left unsaid and your clear disdain verbalized she knew it was best not to.

Every other time she'd seen you cry she held you close, but in this moment all she could do was grab the loose, fraying threads of your light brown cardigan and wrap it around her tiny, chiseled frame as if hugging herself.

A part of you softened when your eyes caught the self-soothing move, and the urge for answers won over your decision to never speak to the heartbreaker again.

"Why?" Natasha's frown worsened, the crack in your voice mirrored the ones in both of your naive souls.

"I missed you," she instantly answers one of the questions attached to the simple word, "and I needed the chance to explain myself before you give us up."

"Us?" You scoffed and didn't even care that she flinched. "You moved on first Natasha, without even a heads up—I found out through the local pothead."

"No," she denied with a shaky voice, "I didn't mean."

"Oh please," you cut her off, "I don't do cliches Natasha and you very well know that. I just don't understand."

"Let me speak," she croaked desperately, "I don't know why I didn't come to you with this query det—Y/N."

A shiver of delight betrayed you as it ran down your spine when you heard the delicate beginnings of the pet name Natasha assigned to you in middle school. The notion alone should have been enough for the redhead to know, but feelings were never definite enough for her, much like her mom she leaned into empirical evidence and just this once it has failed her.

"I needed to know," she continued. "Know what?"

You saw the way her nail beds were raw and red, much like her eyes as she attempted to refrain from crying more as she whispered, "when I came out to Mama and Papa, I had to know if you were my one and only, or if the urge to kiss girls since pre-k was truly genuine."

"So you kissed some random guy? I wasn't enough?"

"I couldn't just trust my heart here," she replied with frustration clear in her tone, but she quickly softened as she saw your hurt expression, she reminded herself that this uncomfortable, targeted feeling was her fault.

"Why him?" Natasha saw an insecurity in your eyes that infuriated her at her core, as if he ever compared to you. "He was their type," she answered truthfully.

You hummed and turned away from her, staring out into the black abyss that was the forestry behind the college. It intrigued you, nearly enough to run into it but you saw the danger there, but as you peered over at Natasha again you found the resentment melted away; the butterflies found a gust of wind to flutter against.

You shakily found the nerve to ask her, "so, was I?"

A few seconds of silence followed as the redhead worked to understand your question, Natasha's lip trembled as your intentional verbiage left her feeling hopeless, but she spoke her truth, "You always will be."

A mix between a groan and humorless laugh left you, "I said no cliches Natty, if you want to win me over..." Instead of saying another word you stood up and left.

Natasha's eyes widened and she stumbled to her feet, intent on following you as you slowly walked back towards the party she had no particular interest in joining. To her satisfaction you merely smiled at a friend as you grabbed your bag from by the couch.

Wordlessly you continued out the front door, and a giggle left you once Natasha grabbed you by your hip from the side, her body twisted around you and her other hand landed on your other hip. The beauty wore a hesitant smile on her face as she peered up at you.

Natasha breathlessly pled, "Can I kiss you, please?"

"A kiss on the steps of a college frat party," you teased, a smirk on your ruby tinted lips, "is grossly overdone."

The redhead moved her arms around your waist and yanked you forward anyways, "cliches are romantic." Her anxiety bitten lips pressed into yours, of course you felt the way her body relaxed due to your touch and the last bit of doubt left your body as she spun you around until your legs wrapped around her waist.

In a moment of excitable weakness you sighed, "I only will accept kisses like this going forward." Natasha chuckled at the change up, and you glared instantly, "I refuse to be a spectacle though, so take me to the car!"

Natasha refused to take any chances with your bubbling forgiveness so she rushed forward, gentle as can be as she settled you into the raised truck. It was automatic as you reached for her aux, "let's go to our spot—you can continue to win me over with food..."

A soft kiss was placed on your cheek in thanks, you knew this because Natasha always did this after a fight. Usually it was over something silly, like who was the masked killer or where you two should get dinner, but it was always true, the action was a promise of peace.

The redhead put the car in drive, pulling onto the quiet roads of a rural New York mountainside, windows rolled down allowing you to enjoy the crisp air as she went slightly above the 50mph speed limit. Whenever she could she'd cast a glance your way, and even in the dark she could catch your radiant smile as you quietly sang along to, "begin again," by Taylor Swift.

After a few moments of quiet driving on the redheads part you felt the presence of a hand, crippled by hesitation hovering over your thigh. With a gentle finger you pressed it down and looked to her with a gaze that held both hesitation and a willingness to understand, to forgive and hopefully, to start anew.

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